Thirty Minutes and Counting
by ELM22
Summary: Grissom is kidnapped and his CSI team receives live feed showing him half-naked and chained to a chair. After the kidnappers give their demands for his release they tell the team that he will be tortured every 30 minutes until their demands are met.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This a new story that came to mind and this is just an introduction, but tell me what you think!

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Thirty Minutes and Counting

Prelude

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Gil Grissom pushed himself up from his squatting position, his knees cracking on the way. He stretched his body and noted how sore his back was. He ran his tired hands over his tired face and up through his peppered, brown and grey curls. He determined in that moment that he was getting too old to be pulling triple shifts anymore. Doubles were bad enough.

Leave that for the young bucks, He thought to himself. I'm just too damn old for this.

He laughed at himself and instantly denied his new determination. He would never let Nick, Warrick, or Greg do that to him. He would never live it down if he did.

He bent down to his case to pick up his dish of print powder when he was startled by a voice coming from the doorway.

"Hello, CSI." The large man growled.

Gil whirled around in time for a large fist to connect hard with his left eye. He fell heavily on his back and the back of his head connected with a loud thud on the wooden floor. Before he had a chance to react three men wearing ski masks grabbed him and flipped him over. He felt the cold steel of hand cuffs bite into his wrists and before he could think to speak he was gagged with a cold metal chain and he heard the click of a pad lock as the chain was tightly locked behind his head.

The links of the chain were big and split the corners of his mouth and held his jaw uncomfortably open. A black bag was slipped over his head and tied snuggly around his neck. All awareness slipped away from him as he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head.

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When Sara had tried unsuccessfully to reach Gil for the third time she began to worry. When she still couldn't get him to answer his phone on the fifth, then sixth, try she was ready to head over to his crime scene and make sure that he was okay. As she reached the front desk Judy, the receptionist, stopped her.

"Sara?" asked the red head. "This just came about Grissom."

Her words stopped Sara in her tracks. She took the small brown envelope from the younger woman and looked at the label.

_Grissom's return is your choice._

Sara's brow creased as she wondered what it could possibly be about. She decided that it was a joke of some sort, probably from Gil, and opened the envelope. Now she was really confused as she pulled out what looked like a wireless transmitter. She began to walk back into the lab, towards the AV lab, and studying the plain, piece of technology in her hand. She almost bumped into Nick who was standing in the hall, talking to Warrick and Catherine.

"Oh, sorry, Nick." She apologized.

"What, are you on your way to the mindless convention or something?" He replied sarcastically in his thick southern drawl and smiled.

"Huh? Oh, no." She smiled and explained about trying to call Gil then receiving the package.

They each took a turn in looking at the transmitter then followed her to the AV lab. It was empty and they figured that the tech, Archie, was on break. Sara sat down in the chair and plugged the transmitter into the receiver box.

As soon as the signal was picked up and the feed was loaded the screen came to life and the image of Gil Grissom appeared on the screen. He sat with his ankles chained to the front legs of a chair and his wrists chained to the back legs of the chair. His head was covered by a black bag but Sara knew it was him. He had been stripped of clothes and shoes except for his boxer shorts. Three men wearing ski masks stepped into the screen and one of them pulled the black bag off of Gil's head. His eyes squinted against the harsh lighting. Blood had run from the gash over his left eye into his eye and he kept it closed, not that it hadn't already begun to do that naturally with the swelling.

He panted through the chain that still gagged him as he was grabbed by his hair and forced to look into the camera. He groaned loudly at the fresh wave of pain.

"If you don't believe that we have your friend than call his cell." One of the three ordered.

Sara did so and was horrified to hear the ringing in both her phone receiver and on the TV screen. The man waved Gil's cell phone mockingly and answered it.

_"Hello there."_ Came the low, sadistic voice in the phone as he waved at the camera. _"If you want to see your friend…"_ He looked at Gil's ID badge. _"Grissom, again than you will do everything that you are told to do. Do you understand? "_

"Yes." Sara was frozen with fear, but found enough courage to respond.

_"If you want him back than you will give us two things. First you will give us five million dollars in unmarked bills. Then you will give us every stitch of evidence on the John Murphy case. For every thirty minutes that you fail to comply Grissom, here, will suffer for it. A demonstration."_

He closed the phone walked back over to where Gil sat and unchained his left wrist. He brought his arm up so that it was out straight and when Gil struggled against him he received another blow across the left side of his face. He brought Gil's arm back up and put his knee over the elbow. He looked at the camera and his lips curled into an evil grin as he forced his entire weight down, snapping Gil's arm like a twig.

Gil twisted and writhed in the chair as he emitted the most awful scream of pain that any of them had ever heard. As he finally screamed the last breath out of his lungs he gasped desperately for more air. Tears rushed down his face to serve as further evidence of his suffering. His left arm hung limply and the break was clearly visible. His captor's sick smile widened as he kicked Gil's arm against the side of the chair, causing the bone to snap back into place. Gil emitted another series of painful screams as he writhed in the chair, only making it worse for himself.

"We'll contact you in thirty minutes." Said the masked man and they left the room, but did not shut off the camera.

All the four CSI's could do was watch in horror as their friend tried to calm himself. This was real and they had to figure out how to end it.

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A/N: What do you think??? Is it worth continuing??? Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yes, it's back. You thought that this story was forgotten, didn't you? I assure you that it was not and that I merely lacked inspiration for this piece.I consider the prologue to be like a teaser trailer. I want to thank CSI4always** **for random PM's asking me when I was going to complete this little torture fest. I also want to thank JellyBeanChiChi for the beta read and for not getting totally grossed out. So turn out the lights, cross your legs and prepare to cringe because I promise that I will not be nice in this story. :) **

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** Chapter One**

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A cool breeze blew across the open veranda of the restaurant where nightshift supervisor of the Las Vegas Crime Lab Gil Grissom sat, dressed in his nicest, navy blue suit. Across from him sat Sara Sidle. Her simple, flowered summer dress accentuated the curves of her body and stopped at the knees to show her long, smooth legs. The candle light made her eyes shine and the gentle breeze whispered through her shoulder length, brown hair allowing it to wisp away from her face.

They shared their third date, or more accurately, their third attempted date. The two previous dates had been interrupted by work and they had barely gotten beyond each other's favorite movies before they were called away to the lab. Sara was Grissom's colleague and fellow crime scene investigator but what made their relationship more complicated was that she was also his subordinate. Yet, he had finally decided to give in to her advances and start a new relationship.

The process began slow and encountered extra strain due to their paranoia of being seen together while on a date, which might lead to prime lab gossip. Grissom's supervisor, Conrad Ecklie, seemed to never be satisfied unless he was up Gil's ass about one thing or another, so they especially wanted Ecklie in the dark.

Sara took a sip of her wine as she listened to Grissom talk and when she set the glass down she reached her hand out to his. He had been pushing the last tiny portion of his dinner around his plate with his fork but he stopped and looked up at her when he felt her skin touch his. There was instant electricity when their eyes met and he could see the rise of passion beginning to burn in her chocolate orbs. Grissom watched as she slowly flicked her tongue over her front teeth and he felt his heartbeat quicken as the temperature on the veranda spiked. He began to fidget uncomfortably in his seat as his pants became unbearably tight when she reached her bare foot under the table and ran it up the inside of his lower left leg.

Sara sensed the change in him and teasingly dragged her foot higher up his leg until it rested on the front edge of the chair. She rubbed his inner thigh with her toes. The waiter was not oblivious to what was happening between the couple and wanted to give them the opportunity to leave quickly. He could see they might not be able to hold their passions for much longer, so he approached their table.

"Sir, madam," he nodded to each of them in turn. "I hope that you were most satisfied with your meals. Can I interest either of you in some dessert?"

"The food was delicious, my compliments to the chef." Sara smiled but never took her eyes from Grissom's. "But thank you no on the dessert, I have something special at home."

Grissom didn't miss the slight hitch in her tone when she said "special," nor did he miss the slight flare in her eyes when she finished her sentence. He cleared his throat before replying to the waiter. "Ummm… no, thank you… I'll just take the check please."

The waiter disappeared to fill his customer's request and Sara continued her tantalizing rubbing of Grissom's inner thigh. He was just about to ask her back to his place for drinks when his cell phone rang. They both froze for a brief moment before he pulled the phone out of his pocket and winced when he looked at the caller ID. Sara knew that look and pulled her foot away from his leg as she sat back in her chair. She didn't hide the look of annoyance on her face.

"Grissom…" he answered as he held the phone up to his ear. "Yeah, okay… I'll be there." He closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "There's a 419 in Henderson."

"This relationship is going to be a 419 before long." Sara retorted as she grabbed her purse.

"What do you expect, Sara?" He tried not to get angry. "You knew what you were getting into for a relationship when you started this."

"When I started this?!" She stood from her seat and looked him in the eye. She wanted to say more, hell she wanted to say a lot more but she didn't. "Goodnight, Grissom."

She turned and left him sitting on the veranda waiting for the bill. He slumped back in his chair as he watched her leave, helpless to stop her. _What does she expect?_ He wondered._ I have a job to do, she knows that._ After paying the bill and leaving generous tip Grissom went to his vehicle.

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Grissom changed into the spare work clothes he kept in his vehicle before going to his scene in Henderson. When he got there any good feelings that he'd tried to savor from his date with Sara quickly vanished as he walked into the rundown, suburban home where a young mother and her two small children were brutally slain. It had not been done quickly or easily and the scene was a mess.

The two men found the mother tied to the queen-sized bed in the master bedroom. Welts and bruises covered her nude body revealing a map of abuse. The multitude of bruising and scars proved she had suffered a lot of beatings over the years.

"There are two more DBs?" Grissom asked as he took his eyes away from the victim and looked at Captain Jim Brass.

"Yeah, they're over here." Brass's voice was low and troubled.

Grissom looked at him cautiously and followed when his friend lead the way to the next room. The small bedroom was bare except for a mattress on the floor in the corner. He looked around the room and when he saw nothing more he looked at Brass curiously. The homicide detective said nothing but pointed to the closet in the back of the room.

Grissom reluctantly moved to the door and opened it. What he found inside made him sick to his stomach and the smell was even worse. Two small children lay motionless on the floor. He slowly began to process the small closet and when David arrived he helped the younger man remove the children from the closet.

They lay the small bodies on two separate sheets on the floor of the bedroom. Grissom found himself choking back a lump in his throat as he watched David clear the bodies for him to examine for evidence. Like the woman, it was evident that they had suffered through months or even years of abuse.

"I'd say the boy is maybe five or six," David said quietly. "And the girl might be three or four." Grissom shook his head. "Their clothes are torn and dirty and their hair's ratty and tangled. I'd say they haven't been bathed in a while." Grissom only nodded.

The rest of the night proved to be a long one. It took Grissom and his colleague Warrick Brown some eight hours to clear the scene. When they finally returned to the lab Grissom said he would go to the morgue if Warrick would start working on the evidence. Warrick agreed as he didn't want to have to look at the damaged bodies of those two young children. Grissom didn't relish the activity either, but, truth be told, he wanted to avoid being in the lab with Sara.

Doctor Robbins was solemn when Grissom entered the morgue that morning. "It's been a hard life for these two little ones." He said as the two men stepped up to the first table. "This little girl has had multiple fractures on both of her arms, all varying in intensity, most of which are consistent with child abuse. Probably from being grabbed and yanked. The boy has had multiple rib fractures." Al turned to the second table and pointed to the youngster's torso. "And check out these bruises."

Grissom leaned down as he peered through his glasses for a closer look. "They look like shoe impressions."

"Somebody kicked this kid while he was done. Also, both were very malnourished and covered with burns, bumps and bruises and both… have signs… of sexual trauma."

Grissom paused for a moment and closed his eyes as he felt an oncoming migraine. "What about the woman?"

"She too has suffered a life of abuse, both physical and sexual, only hers has been a lot longer. She has fresh marks and scars that probably go back years. These stab wounds, however, are fresh. They look like a fairly wide, single edged blade."

"Possibly a kitchen knife?" Grissom pondered.

"Possibly," Al nodded. "I've sent blood samples from all three to tox which are pending."

"And cause of death for all three?"

"Well, the woman was beaten, raped and strangled. The little boy suffered blunt force trauma to the back of the head," The coroner turned the small head so that Grissom could see the wound. "And the little girl bled out after she was… brutalized… in the most brutal fashion that I have ever seen or heard of."

Grissom didn't say another word as he left the morgue.

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Warrick looked up when the grave shift supervisor walked into the layout room. "Hey, Griss,"

"Hey," he replied solemnly. Grissom passed his younger colleague the folder containing the coroner's report. "How are you doing in here?"

"I've processed about half of the evidence from the master bedroom. Haven't even started on the evidence from the kid's room yet." Warrick leaned against the table. "I did, however, identify the victims." He opened the folder on the table next to him and turned it for his boss to see. "The woman is Melissa Carter and the kids are her son, Seth, and her daughter, Madison."

Grissom looked at the folder then back up to his colleague. "The Department of Human Services?"

"Yeah, I thought that would be a good place to start. I called and spoke to a case worker, she said that Melissa was recently given an ultimatum by the state. She could either leave her boyfriend, John Murphy, whom Brass has put out an APB on, or she would lose her kids. The social worker said that she was in the understanding that Melissa had left him, but apparently she had gone back to him."

"Or had been taken back." Warrick looked at him, waiting for further explanation. "Just read the coroner's report, I don't feel like rehashing it right now." Warrick nodded and let it go. "I… uhhh… I have some paperwork to complete before I go home."

"Yeah," Warrick agreed, relating to his boss's need to get away from this case for a while. "I'm gonna do a little bit more in here before I leave for the day."

Grissom nodded and left the layout room. He went to his office and shut the door before going to his desk and sitting down. He opened the top drawer and pulled out his bottle of migraine medication. He popped two of the pills in his mouth and drank them down with the last few swallows of the cold tea in his mug. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes as he waited for the meds to kick in but was instantly plagued with images of those two, battered children.

He sat back up when a knock sounded on the door and he permitted entrance to whoever was disturbing him. Sara walked into the room and her entire air was business. She proceeded to fill him in on the case that she was working on without giving him the chance to get a word in edgewise. When she finished she looked at him for a customary "OK," or "good work," or whatever else he would dare say.

He knew he needed to apologize for having to leave her that evening, even though he really didn't feel like discussing it. "Sara… about dinner…"

"You know what," Sara folded her arms across her chest and it further added to the angry air about her. "Don't even worry about it, Grissom. In fact don't worry about bothering with anymore dates with me." He sighed in exasperation. "Because I am done being stood up or run out on every time you get a call."

"Sara, I have a job to do,"

"You don't think that I know that? I do the same damn thing, Gil." The edge of her voice was beginning to rise and he stood up and moved to shut the door. "But I have always made the time for you."

"Sara..."

"No, I'm done." She stepped towards the door before turning to say one last thing. "Every time that we try or, God forbid, actually make some progress in this drowning relationship of ours you let work get in the way. Our lives are not the crime lab, Gil, it is just a part of our lives and I have been struggling with this for months."

"Sara, I can't just ignore my job." He replied indignantly.

"You know what your problem is, Grissom? You're so self-centered and so focused on your damn career that you can't take your head out of your ass and see what's right in front you." Sara said angrily, the pitch of her voice rising as her hurt came closer to the surface. "I'm right here, but you just can't see it, you asshole!"

That was all it took and any reserve that Grissom had managed to maintain went right out the window. "If you can't handle it, Sidle," he spat with a venom of his own. "Than why don't you go climb back into a bottle!"

He instantly regretted speaking such hurtful words but it was too late, the damage was already done. Sara scowled at him before throwing the door open and storming out of his office. He closed his eyes again as he shook his head.

Warrick had been headed towards Grissom's office when Sara stormed out and didn't even apologize when she rudely brushed passed him. He looked into the dimly lit room before knocking and saw his boss leaning against his desk and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, Griss,"

"What?"

Warrick ignored the sharp tone that he received. "I just finished reading the coroner's report and it said that she had been stabbed twice. I didn't find a knife at the scene so I thought that I'd go back over there and see if I could find the one used on her."

Grissom was about to give him the OK when he remembered that Warrick was about to go into his third straight shift. "No, I'll go look for it, Warrick, you need to go home and get some sleep."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, have a good day."

"OK, Griss, see you tonight."

After his argument with Sara, Grissom was wide awake and the last thing that he wanted to do was go home to his empty townhouse and be alone thinking about how right Sara was and what an asshole he had been. So he grabbed his case, slipped on his jacket and left for his crime scene.

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**A/N: Don't worry, the fun's about to begin. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter one. Your reviews are still a great source of inspiration to me and will help me a great deal as I am _very _close to bring this story to a close and am working on the last chapter now. I wised up after Face the Music. No more writing one chapter at a time for this chick. :) Big thanks to JellyBeanChiChi for the beta job and not getting mad at me for being so mean to Grissom. :D**

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**CHAPTER TWO**

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When Warrick walked into the locker room he found Sara sitting on the bench in front of her locker, staring at the floor. She looked more than troubled. She looked like she had probably just had a bit of crying spell that she had just managed to control. He heard his confirmation when she sniffled. She didn't respond when he spoke her name so he sat down on the bench beside him.

"Hey girl," Sara's head snapped up but she relaxed when she realized who it was. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You and Grissom dukin' it out, huh?"

She instantly came on the defensive. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing. But I saw the way you left his office."

Sara lowered her head again. "Grissom was just being his typical… thoughtless self."

Warrick heard what she really meant loud and clear. "It's this case he's working on. It's got him… in pretty bad shape. Hell, I don't think I'll be able to sleep 'til it's over at least." She looked at him curiously and he explained the whole case to her. He watched her features change to something of deep compassion the more he spoke.

"Oh my god," She finally said as she shook her head.

"Yeah and you know how he gets when he works the case of an abused kid. He takes those the hardest of them all."

"Thanks for the explanation, Warrick," Sara said then grabbed her coat and headed for the door.

He watched her leave before returning to his own locker and getting his things. He wondered if those two were ever going to stop messing around and get together. It was evident to everyone around them that they were made to be together he just couldn't understand why they hadn't seen it yet. Then he corrected himself. He couldn't understand why Grissom hadn't seen it yet.

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Grissom pushed himself up off the floor. He felt and heard his knees crack on the way up. He stretched his body and noted how sore his back was. He ran his tired hands over his tired face and up through his brown and gray curls. He determined in that moment that he was getting too old to be pulling triple shifts anymore. Doubles were bad enough.

He had looked high and low but could not find a knife that had been used to stab Melissa Carter. He scanned the room again and shook his head in frustration. He heard the creak of the floor boards behind him and turned, expecting to see the young officer who had accompanied him there. Instead he saw a large man dressed in black, wearing a ski mask.

"Hello, CSI." The large man growled.

Grissom hadn't been able to react before a large fist connected hard with his left eye. He fell heavily on his back and his head connected hard with a loud thud on the wooden floor. Suddenly, three men, all wearing ski masks, grabbed him and flipped him over. He felt the cold steel of hand cuffs bite into his wrists and before he could think to speak he was gagged with a cold metal chain. He heard the click of a pad lock as the chain was tightly locked behind his head.

The links of the chain were big and split the corners of his mouth and held his jaw uncomfortably open. A black bag was slipped over his head and tied snuggly around his neck. All awareness slipped away from him as he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head.

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Grissom was unsure if he was awake or dreaming because he couldn't see anything. But he knew he must be awake because he could hear voices and he could feel hands stripping him of his clothing. He tried to struggle and pull his arms free of their grasp and received a hard blow across the left side of his face.

"Hold still or I'll cut your balls off!" A familiar voice growled.

Their hold didn't change as they picked him up off the floor and tried to walk him across the room. He struggled against them again but couldn't pull his arms free. He gasped when he felt something sharp and pointed pressed against the crotch of his underwear.

"I told you to hold still!"

Taking the man at his word Grissom stopped struggling. They pushed him into a chair and when the cold steel touched his bare flesh he gasped in surprise. They first cuffed his hands to the back legs of the chair and then his ankles to the front legs. He groaned as his arms strained as they were pulled down enough to be cuffed. He tried to speak but the half-inch thick chain that still gagged him discouraged him from talking. He heard them laughing and talking as they walked out of the room and he could have sworn that he recognized one of the voices but in the fog that clouded his mind he wasn't sure.

As he sat alone in the cold, dark room, he realized the dire nature of the situation and panic set in. He struggled against the restraints and when the steel cuffs wouldn't give he began to thrash in the chair. The knowledge of what was happening to him sunk deeper and deeper each time he struggled and fear began to grip his heart like a strong hand that would crush him. What he feared the most was the thought of never seeing Sara again and never again being able to tell her that he loved her.

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Sara tried calling Grissom's cell phone for the last hour but received no reply. She began to worry, and when his phone went unanswered on the fifth, then sixth, try she was ready to head over to his crime scene.

Then she stopped herself. She figured that he must still be angry and was ignoring her. She wouldn't blame him if he was. She had said some pretty hurtful things to him and she just wanted to somehow try and make it up to him. She decided that it would just be best to leave for the day and give him some space to calm down a little. As she was walking passed the front desk she was stopped by the tiny, red headed receptionist.

"Sara?" Judy called her.

"Yeah," Sara stopped and turned to face the younger woman and took the envelope that she was handing out.

"This just came about Dr. Grissom."

Her words stopped Sara in her tracks. She took the small brown envelope from the younger woman and looked at the label.

Grissom's return is your choice.

Sara's brow creased as she wondered what it could possibly be about. Hoping it was a joke of some sort, possibly from Gil, she opened the envelope. I'll bet it's an apology, she thought. But instead she found what looked like a wireless transmitter. She walked towards the AV lab, and studying the plain, piece of technology in her hand. She almost bumped into Nick who was standing in the hall, talking to Warrick and Catherine.

"Oh, sorry, Nick." She apologized.

"What, are you on your way to the mindless convention or something?" He replied sarcastically in his thick southern drawl and smiled.

"Huh? Oh, no." She smiled and explained about trying to call Gil then receiving the package.

They each took a turn in looking at the transmitter then followed her to the AV lab. It was empty and they figured that the tech, Archie, was on break. Sara sat down in the chair and plugged the transmitter into the receiver box.

As soon as the signal was picked up and the feed was loaded the screen came to life and the image of Gil Grissom appeared on the screen. He sat with his ankles chained to the front legs of a chair and his wrists chained to the back legs of the chair. His head was covered by a black bag but Sara knew it was him. He had been stripped of clothes and shoes except for his boxer shorts. Three men wearing ski masks stepped into the screen and one of them pulled the black bag off of Gil's head. His eyes squinted against the harsh lighting. Blood had run from the gash over his left eye into his eye and he kept it closed, not that it hadn't already begun to do that naturally with the swelling.

The team stood shocked as they viewed the image of their friend bound in the chair. Grissom panted through the chain that still gagged him. One of the men grabbed him by his hair and forced him to look into the camera. Grissom groaned loudly at the fresh wave of pain and everyone watching gasped in fear.

"_If you don't believe that we have your friend than call his cell."_ The man holding his hair ordered.

Sara did so and was horrified to hear the ringing in both her phone receiver and on the TV screen. The man waved Grissom's cell phone mockingly and answered it.

"_Hello there."_ Came the low, sadistic voice in the phone as he waved at the camera. _"If you want to see your friend…" _He looked at Grissom's ID badge._ "Grissom, again than you will do everything that you are told to do. Do you understand? "_

"Yes." Sara was frozen with fear, but found enough courage to respond.

"_If you want him back than you will give us two things. First you will give us $5 million in unmarked bills. Then you will give us every stitch of evidence on the John Murphy case. For every thirty minutes that you fail to comply Grissom, here, will suffer for it. A demonstration."_

He closed the phone walked back over to where Grissom sat and unchained his left wrist. He brought his arm up so that it was out straight and when Grissom struggled against him he received another blow across the left side of his face. He brought his captive's arm back up and put his knee over the elbow. He looked at the camera and his lips curled into an evil grin as he forced his entire weight down, snapping Grissom's arm like a twig.

Grissom twisted and writhed in the chair as he emitted the most awful scream of pain that any of them had ever heard. As he finally screamed the last breath out of his lungs he gasped desperately for more air. Tears rushed down his face to serve as further evidence of his suffering. His left arm hung limply and the break was clearly visible. His captor's sick smile widened as he kicked Grissom's arm against the side of the chair, causing the bone to snap back into place. He emitted another series of painful screams as he writhed in the chair, only making it worse for himself.

"_We'll contact you in thirty minutes." _Said the masked man and they left the room, but did not shut off the camera.

All the four CSI's could do was watch in horror as their friend tried to calm himself. This was very real and they had to figure out how to end it. Sara quickly dialed Grissom's number again but was immediately sent to his voice mail. The kidnappers had shut his phone off. They would be unable to track him on the GPS if his phone was off.

"Rick and I'll get over to his crime scene and see what we can find and what happened to the uniform that was supposed to be with him." Nick said and when Catherine nodded her approval the two men rushed out of the room.

The pain that was etched on Grissom's face tore at Sara's heart as she watched him with horrified eyes. Things like this were not supposed to happen. How could this be happening to him? How could this be happening to them? As she stood watching him what she felt was the need to hold him. The need to comfort him and tell him that it would be alright, that they would get him out of there. But she knew the direness of the situation and she knew that if Nick and Warrick were unable to find any evidence leading to his whereabouts than they were all at the mercy of these masked tormentors.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

**A/N: This one was a partial repeat but that's what a preview does. :D Don't worry you pain freaks, I'm not done with him yet. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I want to assure you all that _this _chapter is not a rehash. ;) Thank you to all of those who have reviewed, I have enjoyed reading them.** **I also want to thank JellyBeanChiChi for fixing all of my errors.**

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

Lab Administrator Conrad Ecklie had just clocked in when his phone rang. "Ecklie." He answered as he held it to his ear.

"Conrad, it's Catherine, we need you at the lab ASAP."

"I'm already here, what's going on?"

"Gil's been kidnapped and we have live video feed in the AV lab."

Conrad stopped in his tracks. He didn't think that he had heard her correctly and asked her to verify what she had said. When she repeated her report his legs found strength again and his feet began to move faster as they carried him to the Audio and Video lab where he found the grave yard shift team gathered.

"Catherine?" He addressed his colleague as he entered the room.

"Conrad," she looked at him then motioned towards the screen.

What he saw startled him to say the least and he took a step forward as his eyes were transfixed on the screen. Grissom still sat, restrained in the steel chair. His left arm hung limply at his side and looked swollen and like it was beginning to bruise. His breathing was rapid and it was obvious that he was struggling for each one. His left eye was swollen shut and his right eye looked red and tear-stained. When his body hitched with a pain stricken sob his face contorted in a grimace.

"Bring me up to speed." Ecklie requested breathlessly and Catherine told him everything that had happened so far.

As she finished Detective Jim Brass walked into the lab. He stopped when he looked at the screen and couldn't hide the expression of fear and worry that showed so clearly on his face. "I, uh… just got off the phone with Sheriff Atwater. He's on his way in and he said that he would call McKeen on his way."

The others nodded and returned their attention to the screen. Even when Scott, the day shift AV tech, had arrived to start his shift Sara never moved from her seat and never took her eyes from the screen. All that she could think about as she watched his body be wracked by another painful sob were her last words to him.

_"I'm right here, but you just can't see it, you asshole!"_

Those words bounced around in her head as the hateful tone pierced her heart. All she wanted to do was hold him as she watched him suffer alone. She didn't hear her friends and colleagues talking behind her nor did she feel Nick's comforting hand on her shoulder. In that moment all she felt was guilt as the thought that this would be the last time that she saw him crept into her mind.

* * *

"Bring me up to speed." Sheriff Atwater said as he looked at Catherine who stood the other side of the table in the layout room.

She took a deep breath and began. "At eight thirty this morning, as CSI Sidle was leaving, she received a package which a courier had left for her at the front desk. It contained a wireless transmitter and this note." She held up a clear, plastic baggy with the note that Sara had found in the envelope. "We uploaded the transmitter and received a link for a live video feed where we found CSI Grissom bound, half naked to a chair with a chain for a gag." She paused to take another breath and steady herself. Nick, Warrick and Ecklie kept their heads down as they waited for her to continue and Atwater and McKeen stood and waited patiently. "After a short period of time lapsed three men wearing ski masks entered the room with Grissom and stated their demands to us. They demanded five million dollars in unmarked bills and all of the evidence from the John Murphy case."

"What's the John Murphy case?" The sheriff asked.

"It's a case that Grissom and CSI Brown picked up last night." She explained as she opened the case file to show the sheriff. "It was a 419 out in Henderson where a mother and her two small children were brutalized and murdered." Catherine continued. "They said that if we ever wanted to see Grissom alive again than we would have to meet their demands and for every thirty minutes that we didn't do as they said Grissom would suffer for it. To demonstrate…" She took a deep breath to draw strength and they both gave her a confident nod. "They broke his arm."

The sheriff and undersheriff looked at each other in shock. "How is he?" Atwater asked.

"He's alive," was all Catherine could say. "CSI's Stokes and Brown have gone back to that crime scene."

"How long has it been?" McKeen inquired.

Catherine looked at her watch and paled a little as her voice began to shake. "Twenty five minutes."

Silence fell over them for a minute until Greg rushed into the room to tell them that the kidnappers were back. Everyone rushed back to the AV lab to see that the masked men were propping Grissom's legs up on cinder blocks and chaining his ankles to them. Catherine stepped forward to where Sara was still sitting and placed her hands on the younger woman's shoulders.

* * *

Grissom tried to calm himself as the three men shut the door behind them when they left. He began to shake as the edge of adrenaline began to wear off and the motion sent shocks of pain through his broken arm which hung limply at his side. The pain wasn't going to stop and was not going to ease any time soon, he knew that, so he tried to distract himself.

You need to breathe, Gil, he thought to himself as he concentrated on taking deep breaths through his nose and letting them out through his forcefully parted lips. Once he began to feel calm he tried to divert his attention from the pain, and his thoughts quickly went to Sara. He thought about how much he wished he was with her right now. He regretfully recalled the last words they had said to each other before he had left for the crime scene. Theirs had been words spoken in anger, and with at least a touch of malice. He could do nothing to take them back now and he would probably die with that being the very last thing that he had said to her.

_"You know what your problem is, **Grissom**? You're so self-centered and so focused on your damn career that you can't take your head out of your ass and see what's right in front you." Sara said angrily, the pitch of her voice rising as her hurt came closer to the surface. "I'm right here, but you just can't see it, you asshole!"_

_"If you can't handle it, **Sidle**," Gil spat with a venom of his own. "Than why don't you go climb back into a bottle!"_

They had both been overworked and overtired and straining to begin a new relationship. She had thrown open his office door and stormed down the hall, and he let her go. He knew that neither of them had truly meant what they had said, but he never should have let her go. It was too late now, and he would never have the chance to tell her how sorry he was for saying such a mean and hurtful thing. He hung his head in shame as tears stung his eyes and he realized that he had lost the only woman in his life that he had truly loved.

The door swung open and in walked the three masked men. Grissom lifted his head and tried to look around at them but cried out when one of them grabbed his broken arm and pulled it down and cuffed it to the chair. When they brought in the cinder blocks and chained his ankles to them he tried to fight but it only turned to panic. The one who appeared to be the ringleader stepped forward and spoke.

"Time's up."

Grissom could not comprehend anything but the sight of the masked man and the hammer he was carrying. He stepped up next to Grissom's left leg and grinned at the helpless man before raising the hammer high over his head and bringing it down on Grissom's knee. He screamed out as the excruciating pain shot through his extremity. The hammer was brought down a second and then a third time. Each time Grissom's scream grew louder and became more penetrating.

The helpless man struggled to catch his breath as he gasped for air and the masked man moved around to his other side. Grissom shook his head from side to side in an effort to beg the man to stop as he raised the hammer over his head again. His incoherent screams of, "Please don't!" held no sway over his tormentor as the hammer came crashing down on his right knee three times successively.

"You have thirty minutes to meet our demands," the masked man said into the camera. "Or Mr. Grissom's suffering continues."

With that the three men exited the room again, leaving Grissom to sit alone in his suffering. He couldn't stop the tears that poured down his face and his head hung low as his body was once again wracked by painful sobs. In that moment, more than ever, he wished that Sara was with him. He had caught the last of what his tormentor had said and realized that his death would be a long and painful one and just wished that he wouldn't be alone for it. He had no idea in the world who it was that was torturing him to death or what their motive could possibly be. He just wished that he could tell her how much he loved her. Even if it would be the last time in his life. Oh God, it hurt so bad.

* * *

As the crowd in the AV lab watched their friend and colleague be tortured, their faces paled and some eyes filled with tears. But as the three masked men left the room each one of them looked at their watch then jumped into action.

"I'll get the mayor on the line and find out what we can do about that ransom," Sheriff Atwater said. "You guys get together the evidence from the Murphy case."  
"What are you going to do with that?" McKeen and Ecklie asked in unison.

"Give it to them. It might buy Grissom some time."

"But, sir, can we just give away case evidence?" Ecklie questioned.

"Right now Grissom's life and safety is our number one priority and we can't help him if we sit on our thumbs. Now get that stuff together."

Atwater dialed Grissom's cell number in hopes of contacting the kidnappers but cursed when he reached the voice mail.

* * *

**A/N: BUM BUM BUM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: You know, if this story were to have a theme song it would definitely be Mercy by Duffy. If you have it listen to it when you read this chapter if you don't find it. :)**

**Big thanks to JellyBeanChiChi for the beta read. If anyone can hack their way through my garbled mess of words it's her.**

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

* * *

Greg accomplished the almost impossible task of getting Sara to leave the AV lab. He led her to the break room, sat her down at the table and retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge for her. When he sat down next to her, he watched her eyes fill with tears. He was a little reluctant to reach out to her but finally he gently rubbed her back to show his love and concern for her.

He knew she had a thing for Grissom for a long time now and he believed Grissom had not showed her a great deal of affection in return. It could have been so easy for a man without character to prey on her in this weak moment. No one dared say it, but Greg felt after what they had witnessed, it was very likely that they might be forced to watch their friend and mentor die in that room. But Greg only wanted to comfort Sara, not take advantage of her.

"I just wish that I could be there for him. I wish that I could hold him… let him know that he's not alone," she sobbed. "And I wish that I hadn't fought with him before he left for that damned crime scene!"

"Sara, you can't blame yourself for what happened." It sounded a little awkward but it was the only thing that he could think of to

"And now I'm never going to see him again and the last thing that I said to him was so hateful." Buried under the weight of her grief Sara looked into Greg's eyes. "How could I say something like that to someone I love?"

Greg didn't know what to say. All he could do was sit and comfort her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle hug.

Her words pulled at his heart and he wondered if she were saying, without so many words, what they all had hoped for and that the two of them had finally gotten together and at the same time feared what she was conveying and the outcome of the hostage situation.

* * *

Nick and Warrick had returned from the crime scene when their day shift replacements arrived. So Warrick joined Catherine to search for evidence from the Murphy case in the evidence vault. Tensions were already running high but increased more when they spoke to the attendant.

"What do you mean you lost it?!" Warrick yelled at the man. "I just brought it down here a couple of hours ago!"

"I mean, I can't find it!" The man behind the counter yelled back. "It's this damn system that keeps glitching. It says we don't have any evidence from any Murphy case."

Catherine stepped in front of her colleague when she sensed him ready to lash out at the other man physically. "Well if he just brought it down you must remember where you put it."

"I never handled it, lady," he said sarcastically.

"Listen!" She yelled, catching him off guard. "Dr. Grissom's life is in danger and we need that evidence or he's going to suffer and die! Now let us in the damned cage and we'll look for ourselves!"

The man paled as he conveyed the meaning of her words. He took his key ring off his belt, and led them into the caged area. The three of them began to frantically search for the box in question. Both Catherine and Warrick kept one eye on their watches as they desperately looked from one box to another.

"I can't believe we can't find this!" Warrick yelled in frustration. "The clock is ticking and we can't find what should be on top of the pile!"

Catherine shared his frustration but kept it to herself. After what seemed like forever her head snapped up when the attendant yelled excitedly. "I found it!" He beamed a proud smile as he carried the white cardboard box towards them. "That idiot on nights tossed it in the G section in a rush to get out of here."

Without saying a word to the man Warrick grabbed the box out of his hands and looked at Catherine. "How much time?"

She looked at her watch and a grim expression covered her features. "Two minutes." She whipped out her cell phone and speed dialed Grissom's cell number in hopes that one of the kidnappers would pick up.

"You won't get a signal down here," the attendant said.

"Come on!" Warrick yelled and she quickly followed him down the hall to the stairs.

They bolted up the stairs as fast as they could and when she reached the top she dialed again. It rang four times before it was answered. "We have the evidence from the Murphy case." She said breathlessly.

"Your thirty minutes are up." The deep voice sounded satisfied.

"Please, don't hurt him. We got what you asked for." She begged.

The line went dead and she looked at her colleague helplessly as she shook her head. Without saying another word they both ran to the AV lab to join the others who had gathered there. When they entered the crowded lab the three men were already in the room with Grissom and the ring leader was holding what looked like a nail gun.

"Oh god," Catherine sobbed, breaking the silence.

* * *

Sweat poured down Grissom's face as he eyed the nail gun in his tormentor's hand. Panic swelled within him again as he dared not wonder what the man would do with it.

"How you doing there, Grissom?" The man with the nail gun sneered. He was not the same one who had broken Grissom's bones. Yet he was the one who carried the familiar voice that the CSI simply could not place. "Are you pissed that your friends have failed you?" Grissom shook his head from side to side. "Well you should be, because they have. Or perhaps you failed yourself. Too bad you didn't have a cop to protect at that scene, huh, you arrogant clown."

He motioned to his cohorts and they separated his legs which were still chained to the cinder blocks. Grissom groaned and grunted in pain as they quickly dragged the cinder blocks across the floor. The man with the nail gun straddled Grissom's left knee and hunched over, grabbing his bare foot. He looked up to the camera before making his next move.

"You're failing him and he's going to die because you were too slow in saving him."

He pushed the head of the nail gun between Grissom's big and middle toes and pulled the trigger. The industrial nail penetrated the older man's flesh and pierced the ball of his foot. Grissom screamed as pain shot through his extremity and when he felt the piece of machinery being pushed between his next set of toes he began to beg frantically.

"Please…" he sobbed through the links of the chain. "God… please stop!"

With the sound of a pressurized shot of air the second nail shot into Grissom's foot and he screamed in agony as he writhed in the chair. Blood spurted from the wound as he struggled for air. He felt the gun being moved to between his next set of toes and with another pull of the trigger he released another blood curdling scream as the angled nail shot down through the flesh on the bottom of his foot and lodged in his heel. The masked man finished releasing the fourth nail, which went wild when one of the man's buddies jokingly hit his arm. The nail angled back and pierced the arch of Grissoms foot, lodging itself in the bone. Darkness overcame him and he passed out.

"Hey, dude, he's out cold." One of the other men laughed as he slapped his buddy on the arm.

The man with the nail gun stopped what he was doing and turned around. "Go get some cold water." One of his cohorts left the room laughing and didn't bother to close the door. Grissom's head lolled from side to side as the leader slapped him back and forth across the face a few times. "Come on, buddy, wakey-wakey. Your friends aren't done watching you suffer yet."

The man returned with a pitcher of water and threw it in Grissom's face. He startled awake, gasping for air. He felt disoriented and the evidence of his pain showed heavily in his eyes as he looked at the nail gun in his captor's hand. It hung at his side and moved with the man as he smiled and straddled Grissom's right leg.

"Please… why are you doing this?" Grissom sobbed, as panic overtook him again and he struggled against his restraints as the nail gun was pushed between his toes. "NO! PLEASE DON'T!" A few, mere seconds passed like an eternity before the trigger was pulled, the air compressed and the nail shot down through the bottom of his foot. The rest of the session was a haze of pain as the man with the nail gun finished his task and stood over Grissom, admiring his work.

When they were finished torturing their victim and the new thirty-minute time limit was set, the three men left the room as had become the expected custom of this real life horror movie. Everyone on the AV lab could see all too clearly the blood that was now slowly pouring down their friend and colleague's feet and dripping into the pool on the floor. They watched as Grissom sobbed and his body twitched with pain.

With shaking hands the sheriff pulled out his cell phone and dialed Grissom's number. He silently prayed the kidnappers would answer and when they did his breath caught in his throat.

"We have the evidence from the Murphy case ready and waiting but the money is going to take more time." Everyone silently watched and listened to the one-sided conversation. "We'll get you the money but we need more time."

The sheriff motioned for a pen and paper which quickly appeared in front of him. "If we give you the evidence will you please not hurt Grissom any more… No, I'm not demanding anything here… Yes, you're the boss… Yes, sir, you're in charge… Yes, I have a pen and paper."

He wrote down an address and a new cell phone number then closed his phone when the call was ended. He immediately turned to the AV tech. "Did you get a location off the GPS?"

"No… just a few more seconds short," the tech said. "Sorry, sir."

* * *

**A/N: I don't know about you guys but I'm still cringing. And I wrote this over a week ago! My feet will never feel the same.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: A big thank you to JellyBeanChiChi for the beta job and to everyone who has been reviewing. Keep 'em coming.**

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

* * *

Catherine's stomach filled with butterflies as she thought about what she would soon encounter. When the kidnappers spoke to the sheriff on the phone after they "nailed Grissom's feet," as they called it, they demanded the evidence be delivered by the "broad" they had spoken to on the phone. Now she looked down at her watch and saw that the time was near. In fifteen minutes she would be leaving in hopes of saving one of her closest friends.

"Hey, you ready?" Jim asked from where he stood in the doorway.

"What?" Catherine's head snapped around in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Jim sighed as he sat down beside her. "You didn't think that I was going to let you walk in there alone, did you?"

"But… Jim…"

"Hey," Catherine saw the tears that he was trying to hold back. "I… uhhh… I've never told this to anyone before and... I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself. I saw what they did to him like you did and… I… I haven't seen stuff like that since I was in Vietnam."

He seemed hesitant to tell his story but forged ahead. "One night when we were out on patrol we found a small prison camp hidden in the jungle and uhhh… the VC had bugged out shortly before we arrived and in searching the huts I found…" He wiped away a stray tear that rolled down his cheek. "I found one of my buddies. He had been tortured to death for no reason. I'm sure that they wanted information, but he didn't know anything top secret."

Catherine looked at her friend who always presented a hard shell and took his hand as he struggled not to break down. "I just… I couldn't save my friend back then. I don't want to find Grissom like that, I would never be able to forgive myself if I did. I need to bring him home."

She squeezed his hand, showing him how much she cared for him. "It's not your fault, Jim."

He had always admired Catherine and felt something for her that he had tried to ignore for the sake of not making things weird at work. But as she held his hand and offered him this way out of years of guilt for something he could not control those feelings that he had tamped down for a very long time reemerged.

"I know that you'll have my back, Jim, but I need to know that you'll be able to control yourself and give a little to keep from pissing them off." She knew her friend's aptness for taking charge and the possibility that he could cause a problem with the deal.

He looked at her for a long moment before answering. "I just want to get him out of there." He promised and Catherine nodded. "I knew this would come in handy again." He held up his old lab ID, making her smile a little.

* * *

They stayed silent during the car ride. Both Jim and Catherine's minds went over all of the things that could possibly go wrong. They both knew there was a good chance they could be walking into a trap. But they both tried to push those thoughts out of their minds as Catherine's cell phone rang. It was Grissom's number and she quickly answered it.

"Willows… Yes, we're on the road… Yes, I know where that is." She slowly lowered her cell phone and closed it.

"The kidnappers?" Jim asked, though he knew who it was.

"Yeah, they gave us the directions." Catherine swallowed nervously. "473 Oak Drive. He said we need to be there in five minutes. No lights, no sirens." Jim gave her hand an encouraging squeeze before returning his attention to the road. Jim drove there in record time while Catherine called in to dispatch to request that no officers interfere.

The afternoon sun shined bright as Jim pulled onto Oak Drive. The houses that lined the street all looked rundown and abandoned. Jim slowed a little as they looked for the house numbered 473. When they found it Jim pulled the large vehicle onto its cracked drive and shut off the ignition. He quickly glanced back at the unmarked car that had followed them there but kept its distance so as to remain unnoticed by the kidnappers.

Catherine took the evidence box off the back seat and walked side-by-side with Jim as they ascended the steps to the front door. She felt her pulse quicken as Jim looked at her and she nodded and he knocked on the door. She felt Brass tense as the door was flung open and they were both staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Who's he?!?" The masked man demanded very quickly.

"He's my partner."

"I said no cops!!!" He screamed using the same rapid speech pattern and Catherine swallowed hard as the gun whipped between the two of them.

"We're not cops," she hurried to explain. "We're CSI's and he's my field partner!"

It took a moment but the man ushered them inside and told them to wait there in the front hall as he ripped the box out of Catherine's hands and went to the next room. When they were left alone Jim began to whisper something to her but Catherine never heard what he said. Her entire focus was caught by the cheap print that hung on the wall.

"Jim!" She whispered sharply, catching his attention and making him quiet. "That picture."

He looked at it then back at her. "What about it?"

"When they were drilling the nails into his feet and Gil passed out one of them left the room," she hurriedly explained. "He left the door open and I saw that picture hanging on the wall."

"No," Jim shook his head doubtfully. "You don't think they'd be stupid enough to make the drop off point the same place that they're keeping him, do you?"

"I think they're on something, or at least this one." She pointed in the direction that the man had gone in. "He's agitated, his pupils are dilated, he's sweating and he's breathing pretty fast."

"Are you sure about the picture?"

She could see, by the look in his eyes, that he was ready to take action. "Yes."

At that moment the man stepped back into the room and Jim demanded to see Grissom. The man laughed and stuck his gun in Jim's face and, for a brief moment, time seemed to stop. As everything seemed to freeze the veteran Marine didn't see a kidnapper in a ski mask standing before him he saw a Vietnamese soldier dressed in black. Images of Grissom screaming his pain as he writhed in the steel chair intertwined with images of his dead friend who he found in that small hut on that rainy night in the jungle. The look in his eyes became something primal as instinct took over and the veteran detective grabbed his wrist and twisted it up over his shoulder so that the man had to flow with it or chance having his shoulder dislocated. Flipping the man backwards he crashed to the hardwood floor with a loud noise.

Startled and shocked, Catherine jumped back. She became frightened as she saw the look in her friend's eyes as he straddled the man's chest and pummeled his face. Jim quickly wrestled the gun away from the man but had no time to react when a second man came bursting from one of the side rooms, leaving the detective only enough time to get back onto his feet. He charged towards Brass like a raging bull, bending over at the last possible moment to dodge Jim's high punch and slammed into his midsection.

He drove the older man into the wall behind him and stood up to grab his face with a sweaty hand as he slammed the detective's head into the dry wall. The assailant screamed in pain as Brass sunk his teeth into the meat of his hand. He quickly backed away, tearing his hand out of the detective's mouth, and Brass seized the moment.

The first man Brass took down was back on his feet and paid no attention to Catherine as he charged towards Brass. Raising a knee Jim rammed into his attacker's groin and as the man dropped to the ground in pain the veteran grabbed his head and drove his knee into the man's face, causing blood to gush from his now broken nose. Brass didn't hesitate as he rushed forward to meet the man who was now charging at him, brandishing a knife raised over his head.

* * *

Suddenly the sound of Brass' voice screaming in rage boomed from the speakers, shocking them.

"That's Jim." Nick said as he looked at the others in shock.

"They made the drop off the same damn place they were keeping him?!" Warrick said angrily.

As one of the two remaining men rushed out of the room after the ruckus outside began the last man standing panicked. He lifted his sidearm to Grissom's head and his arm shook as he struggled to pull the trigger.

"What is he doing?!" Sara panicked as she leaned forward in her seat. Though they could not be heard by the man on the camera everyone in the AV lab made some noise, signifying their horror of what was transpiring before their eyes.

When the man appeared to have lost all courage to pull the trigger he dropped his side arm and pulled something out of his pocket before stabbing it into Grissom's right arm. The sheriff was on his phone in seconds ordering the back up team to move in. Then he made another call. "DISPATCH! Get paramedics ASAP at the following location..."

* * *

The assailant screamed his rage as he brought the knife down on his victim but as Brass took the final step to close the gap between himself and his attacker thirty years of training snapped into place. He caught the man's arm and grabbed his throat as he pivoted his whole body and flipped him over his hip. For the second time the man hit the floor hard and Brass drilled his fist into the man's face repeatedly. He looked up when the two backup officers rushed through the open door and Catherine directed them to the room where the second attacker had run from.

Brass stopped himself and quickly rolled his prisoner and tightly cuffed his hands behind his back and Catherine quickly recomposed herself and did the same with the man who was still laying on the floor with one hand holding his crotch and the other his nose. She ignored his cries for help as she raced into the room with Jim close behind to see the two other officers subduing the third man.

She pushed past the officers as they subdued the man and pushed him face first to the floor. She knelt next to Grissom's chair and cupped his face with her hands. His breathing became rapid and a look of panic overtook him. "What's happening to me?!" He asked in a panic as he struggled against his restraints.

"Gil, calm down, hun," She tried to stay calm and looked down at the crook of his arm when the blood caught her eye and then back at Grissom when she heard him start to gag. "Gil, hang in there."

Jim unlocked the chain that gagged him with the key that he had found in the pocket of one of the kidnappers and then his wrist cuffs as he looked at her curiously.

"Jim, he's been drugged! Where's the ambulance?" Catherine begged frantically as she looked at the detective and Grissom vomited on her arm and down his chest as she continued to try and comfort him.

Both of them looked horrified as he grabbed Catherine's wrist in a fear filled death grip with his good hand and vomited again and again, until all that was left were dry heaves. His entire body began to tremor as the other two detectives unchained his legs and when his eyes rolled back in his head and his body began to convulse they quickly lowered him to the floor. Jim took off his jacket and put it under Grissom's head as his body jolted with the rhythmic movements of a seizure. Catherine put her hand over the one that still held a painful death grip on her wrist and tried to let her closest friend know that he wasn't alone.

"God, Jim, where's the ambulance?" She begged again as tears fell down her face.

As the first seizure came to a close a second, more powerful seizure, followed on its heels. There was nothing left for his system to vomit though it tried desperately to evacuate his body of the poison that had been forced there. One of the detectives was immediately on his phone to dispatch in an effort to learn the estimated time of arrival for the ambulance when they first heard the sirens in the distance.

A feeling of relief washed over the four of them as they watched Grissom's body calm from the second seizure and lay still. As they watched him they saw that he was completely still. No movement whatsoever and as his hand fell away from Catherine's arm she bent over to listen to his breathing.

"Jim, he stopped breathing!" She yelled in a panic and opened his mouth to check for obstructions before tipping his head back and blowing two rescue breaths into his mouth, ignoring the taste of bile that lingered on his lips. Then followed by listening to his mouth again for any sign that he was breathing and when she didn't hear that she immediately checked for a pulse.

When she leaned back and looked at Brass he leaned over his friend, placing one hand on top of the other, and began performing chest compressions. He counted thirty compressions before holding back and letting Catherine perform two more rescue breaths. When Grissom still wasn't breathing Brass and Catherine repeated their actions. When the ambulance arrived over a minute later Grissom was dead.

* * *

**A/N: There's no dream sequence hear.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: And the moment you have all been waiting for... has just been canceled due to lack of funding. Good bye. :)**

**Once again a big thank you to JellyBeanChiChi for doing a fantastic and keeping the name calling to a minimum during our sessions. LOL! Just kidding! She's too nice for that. And also to the awesome csiKathy for helping the technical medical stuff. **

**WARNING: I know this is a chapter late and I deeply apologize for not putting the CD warning at the beginning of the last chapter. I thank you all for being so understanding. OK, *big sigh* now for the hard part. This chapter contains a major character death.**

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

* * *

Catherine's hand shook as she slipped her quarters into the coin slot of the vending machine. She dropped the second one on the floor and reached down to pick it up. When she slipped the quarter into the slot and pushed the buttons the bag of chips she chose caught between the slot and the glass and failed to fall.

That was the final straw and she screamed and swore as she pounded her fist against the glass. Brass grabbed her from behind, pulling her away from the machine, and she turned on him.

"Damn it!" She screamed as she pounded her fists on his chest and he held her tight against him.

"Shhh…" He soothed as he rubbed her back and she fell against him, sobbing. "It'll be okay. He's still alive and if there is any permanent damage…"

He wasn't quite sure how to finish that sentence. Grissom had not drawn a breath nor had his heart made a beat for more than two minutes before the paramedics brought him back with the defibrillator and even though they had brought him back to life the chance of there being permanent neural or brain damage was high and unavoidable. Jim had a friend back in New Jersey who had had been brought back to life after being without oxygen for too long and though he was alive he was all but a human vegetable. Jim remembered the toll it took on his friends' family.

"We'll get him through this, Cath," he gently pushed her back and cupped her face with his hands, raising her head so he could look in her eyes. His voice was reduced to little more than a whisper as a lump formed in his throat. "I promise, no matter what, we will get him through this."

Their eyes locked and she reached her slender hand up and caressed his face. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes as a tear slipped down his cheek. She brushed it away and when he looked at her again her eyes were filled with love and compassion.

The direness of the situation left Jim feeling sad and alone and with thoughts of wanting more in his life than just being alone at the end of the day and going home to an empty house. As odd as it seemed for the moment, he felt the need to express feelings to her that he had kept tamped down for years as they waited to discover the fate of their friend.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her. She did nothing at first then leaned into him and returned his kiss.

* * *

Sara stoically looked down into her cup as she stirred her coffee. Steam rolled off the top of the drink, but she didn't notice its aroma. Her mind faded back to earlier that day when she watched the live feed of her friends try to revive her beloved and fail. The memory of watching the paramedics as they performed their life saving skills still seemed fresh in her mind.

Jim and Catherine stood aside as one of the paramedics performed rescue breaths and chest compressions while another medic returned to the scene with the portable defibrillator. It took a few tries, raising the voltage each time, before one of them announced that there was a heartbeat. They gently but quickly rolled him enough to push the backboard beneath him then hoisted his unconscious body up onto the stretcher.

Sara lost all contact when Grissom's stretcher disappeared from the room. She had watched the screen intently, waiting for some small glimpse of him, despite the fact he was placed in the ambulance. It was Greg who had guided her away from the screen and to his vehicle. He drove her to the hospital and sat with her in the waiting room praying for a small piece of news.

Now Sara stood in front of a table in the waiting room that offered complimentary coffee and cookies for those waiting for someone in surgery. She absentmindedly looked at the name card sitting at the front of the table. A local, ladies church group provided the snacks and drink. Sara wondered if they had been through the hell she now faced.

She set her cup down and rubbed her tired face. She had been awake for nearly twenty-four hours now and exhaustion seeped into her every feature. Her eyes burned from crying and being open for so long and every time she closed them she saw the image of Grissom. His broken body chained to that chair. She'd been in shock and found it impossible to tear herself away from the screen. She felt the tears coming again and covered her face with her hands.

"It's okay," Greg soothed as he moved over to her and pulled her into a hug. "Just let it out."

She hugged him fiercely in return as she buried her face in his shoulder. She cried for a little while until she began to calm again. Greg felt her tears, but didn't complain. He felt grateful he could support a friend who rarely revealed such raw emotions.

"Grissom family?" A man in green scrubs asked after appearing through the door to the waiting room.

"I'm Sara, his…" she caught herself before revealing a well-guarded secret. "We're his friends and colleagues."

"He has no family here?" The man looked exhausted but still guarded his oath to confidentiality.

"We are his family. We're all he has."

The doctor knew enough about keeping secrets that he could tell she was trying to do the same. Though the other faces all looked tired and sorrowful none of them looked like hers. This young woman looked haggard. She looked older than her years and he could guess that she was probably in some sort of relationship with his patient especially considering her little faux paux just a moment ago. He surmised she hadn't told the others about their relationship, so he decided to concede because he was too tired to demand proper documentation.

"I'm Dr. Romanov," he nodded to them all. "Your friend has suffered a great deal of injuries. We performed full body X-rays so… I'll, uhhh, start with the top and work my way down." He tried to sound professional and detached. "Two of you were the ones who found him?" Brass and Catherine both said 'yes.' "Did he have something in his mouth when you found him?"

"Yes, he was gagged with a chain." Catherine said quietly.

The doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise and tried to hide his full body shudder, then cleared his throat before continuing. "Well, Mr. Grissom has several broken teeth, obviously from biting down when he received the other injuries. He'll need to make an appointment with his regular dentist to have them repaired.

"He suffered what is called a both bones fracture in his left forearm. It wasn't a compound fracture, which is a blessing in itself because it helped prevent infection. However, we did need to open and insert a plate and screws on both the radius and ulna bones. They will hold them in place and allow the bones to heal properly."

"Will he be able to use that arm?" Nick asked from where he stood behind Sara.

"There was a lot of swelling at the break and elbow. It's called a hematoma. And there is a possibility of nerve damage that could effect the use of that hand, but we won't know until he wakes up. As for the arm itself, I believe we got him into surgery in time. The plates and screws may come to bother him over time and in a year, if his x-rays come out alright and he has healed properly, we can go in and remove them. But if they don't bother him we'll leave them in."

He gave them a moment to absorb the information and wondered if their friend, his patient, was left-handed because they all looked so horrified.

"His knees were also in bad shape. The x-rays revealed he had a patella fracture in both knees. It required that we fasten the broken pieces back together using a series pins, screws and wires in both knees. He had a severe hematoma on each knee, which we were able to drain. However, like his arm, we'll have to wait until he wakes up to know for sure if there is any nerve damage."

"What about his feet?" Sara asked and he looked at her curiously. "We watched what happened on live video feed." Her voice chocked a little at the end and Greg soothingly rubbed her back.

"His feet were a mess." He said straightly. "With nails or nail holes between each of his toes and some that went down through the balls of his feet or into the heels. We removed all of the nails and he required a few dozen stitches in his feet."

"We saw them inject something in his arm." Nick interjected.

"After doing some tests and removing the needle that had been broken off in his arm we concluded that he had been overdosed on speed.

"Despite the fact that he went for almost two minutes without air our neurologist said that he is not in a coma. Again, we won't know for sure if he has suffered any brain damage due to the lack of oxygen until he wakes up but his chances are good despite his age." He felt eager to leave this group and take a long break. "He is still out under the anesthesia." He looked directly at Sara. "But you can see him once he is settled in his room."

They thanked the doctor and turned to each other once he left the waiting room. Sara started to feel nervous. She didn't know if she could bare to see him like that again, so vulnerable. But on the other hand she had to see him, she had tell him how sorry she was and beg him to forgive her. Even if he couldn't hear her.

Several minutes passed as slowly as hours before she went to the nurses' station and learned he was settled in his room.

* * *

Sara stepped into the dimly lit hospital room. It was quiet except for the regular beep of Grissom's heart monitor and steady pump of the ventilator next to his bed. She stood by the door for a long time, just staring at the form on the bed before her. Her chin quivered a little and she moved to sit in the chair next to his bed. She was oblivious to her friends watching from the doorway as she gently took his right hand in hers, being careful of the IV protruding from the back of his hand. She didn't know what to say to him but wanted him to know that she was there.

"Hi, baby, I'm here now." She stroked his knuckles with her thumb. "You have to come back to me, Gil. Please don't leave me after you finally let me in."

As the team stood by the door watching the shattered woman, they realized they just learned a deep secret and knew they would have to protect it.

* * *

**A/N: PSYCHE!!!! GOTCHA!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This one took a little longer than I would have liked but real life has had me in a choke hold.**

**Big thanks to JellyBeanChiChi once again. She was a big help in getting this to read right.**

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Chapter Seven

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"PLEASE! OH GOD! PLEASE! NO! NO! NOOOOO!"

Grissom thrashed, causing his injuries to burn with an even more intense pain.

"PLEASE. I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! PLEASE GOD!" Grissom screamed over and over. Then an eerie silence cradled the room and with eyes wide open, but glazed over and focused on nothing, Grissom shook his head wildly. "No... No... No... NOOOOO. AHHHHHHHHHH! OH GOD! PLEASE! SARA! I NEED SARA!"

But she was right there with him. He just didn't notice. She had been at his bedside for two days, yet he never awoke from this state of consciousness in which night terrors plagued him so hard, he awoke screaming and begging for mercy.

Sara tried to soothe Grissom as he screamed her name. The look on his face reflected the severe pain inflicted upon him while chained to that chair. But even when she looked into his eyes and tried to rouse him from his nightmare, only vacant eyes stared back at her. He screamed her name yet didn't know she was already there for him.

When his mind allowed his body to escape the pain, his breathing would slowly even out and he would close his eyes. And that was when Sara's eyes would wander over his broken body. The marks of abuse overwhelmed her. Gray, straight-leg braces around both legs, which were propped up by several pillows under his ankles. White bandages covered his knees to protect the incisions. Gauze covered his feet. His left arm was in a cast and rested on his stomach. His right arm taped with gauze where the needle had broken off under the skin.

Sara couldn't imagine reliving those moments from two days ago. When she watched the live feed of his torture, Sara realized that even though they had only had three dates, she couldn't deny the strong feelings she had for Grissom. This was no trial for Sara; as far as she was concerned, the biggest step Grissom took was going on that first date. It wasn't about flirtations or long-consumed lust, although God knows those things existed. No. It was about opening a door and allowing Sara to enter his heart. And Sara only knew one way of crossing that threshold -- full force. Perhaps, that was why she came so close to telling that surgeon she was Grissom's girlfriend.

Admittedly, she wondered if Grissom felt the same way, but when she heard him scream her name that first night, begging for her, she knew his feelings were as deep as hers. As painful as it was to witness him suffering from so much pain and anguish, his cries gave her affirmation. Their coupling couldn't be measured by the number of dates, but by the intensity of their feelings for one another. If only he would wake up, she could share that thought and tell him how much she loves him.

When Grissom wasn't involved in a moment of terror, only the sounds of his monitors stirred in the hospital room. Sara stretched her legs, but returned to a seat next to Grissom's bed. She absentmindedly flipped through the magazine on her lap, looking at the pictures but not bothering to read the articles when Grissom stirred. His head moved from side to side. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his forehead and Sara thought she heard him mumble something. Moving closer she gently took his good hand and caressed his face.

"Shhh… It's okay, Gil," she tried to soothe him but was unsuccessful and moved her hand from his face to his chest as it became more apparent that he was going to need to be restrained again. She prayed that she would be able to do it and not have to call the nurses in, like so many times before. She felt an intense need to protect him now from everything, including the embarrassment of having other people hearing him beg and cry for mercy.

"Sara…" he moaned. "No… Sara, please… Sara, help me!" Suddenly his eyes opened and he jolted upright. Only her hand on his chest and the pain that shot through his body kept him in the bed. As he fell back on the mattress he grimaced in pain and gripped Sara's hand tightly. "Oh God!" He hissed through his clenched teeth.

"It's okay, I'm right here." She assured him as she moved her hand up to his face again. "Just try to relax and it will ease some."

There was a long pause as he lay still and after a long moment his eyes slowly flickered open, taking time to adjust to the light in the room. When he looked at her she saw an intense look of guilt flash in his eyes and he quickly looked away.

"Do you want me to get the nurse?" He shook his head so she sat down on the edge of his bed and maintained her hold on his hand. She had been sitting with her own guilt and grief for so long now that it was nearly impossible for her to not start right in with an apology. But she waited, she forced herself to wait until he was ready to talk.

"May I have some water please?" His voice was low and groggy.

She reached for a cup and pitcher of water that one of the nurses had brought in earlier for her and poured him a glass. She gently lifted his head and held the straw still so he could drink. When he was done she set the cup back down and took his hand again. An awkward silence fell over them.

* * *

Officer Mitchell escorted Brass to the holding cell where one of the prisoners from Grissom's kidnapping was kept. On the other side former Officer Fromansky leaned against the bars and glared at the detective. His face looked hard, mean and weathered, and a bump stood out on his forehead where it had hit the floor when the two undercover officers had rushed into the small room where he stood next to Grissom and had taken him down. Fromansky's ribs ached where one of the officers had put his knee to hold the him down. But he got off lucky, as far as Brass was concerned. He wanted to take a nail gun to the bastard's feet like he had done to Gil.

"Why'd you do it?" Brass asked with a calm yet cold tone.

"Do you really have to ask me that?" Fromansky laughed. "You know why I did it. That good for nothing son-of-a-bitch needed to be taught a lesson, and I was the only one of us that had balls enough to step up to the plate and do it."

"Us? Us? You know what? You're a piece of work," Brass' voice was barely contained as he clenched his fists at his sides. "You really think you should make that statement while on that side of the holding cell?"

"You're just as pathetic as that joker." Fromansky laughed. "We're the ones out there everyday, putting our lives on the line! NOT HIM! And you have the nerve to say that I'm not one of you but he is?!"

There was a pause as the two men glared at each other. Before Brass turned to leave, he said, "I'm just grateful you didn't have the balls to shoot him and finish the job."

"You're right, I didn't shoot him, that would have been too easy." Brass clenched his jaw as he turned back and watched the man continue nonchalantly. "Instead I shot him up with speed. It might be rare to overdose on speed, but when you put enough in the needle like I did...," Fromansky laughed. "Well, you know what happens? Of course you do. You were right there. I'm guessing his heart raced. He got paranoid. Did he have convulsions? Seizures? You know... in really bad cases... your heart... just... stops."

Brass got as close as he could to the bars so Fromansky could feel his breath on his face. "You were a rotten cop. And you turned out to be a rotten criminal. You're done, Fromansky. And I'm staying with this until I see you rotting in prison."

Brass turned to leave with Officer Mitchell. The prisoner's eyes narrowed. No way was a detective going to take the last word from him. "Oh sure, Brass. You'd rather stand side-by-side with Grissom than me. I guess you won't be doing that for long."

Fromansky's laughter pierced Brass. "What is that supposed to mean?" The detective asked as he turned back to face him again.

"You think that I'm the only one who has a problem with that arrogant son of a bitch? Well you're wrong. There are others," he looked at Mitchell and glared. "And anyone who gets in their way will go down with him."

"Why don't you step outside for a moment, Mitch," Brass said to the officer without taking his eyes from Fromansky's.

"No, Captain, we're not stooping to that bastard's level. No matter how bad we want to." Brass looked at the tall, black man who he had served with for years as his friend motioned his head towards the door and Jim followed. "Grissom wouldn't want that. He would want us to be better than that."

Brass nodded and both he and Mitchell left the holding area.

The officer waited until Brass paced to calm himself. Finally, Mitchell spoke again. "How is the doc?"

"He's still alive," Brass sighed. "I haven't heard much else about his condition in a few hours. I hope he's woken up. I'm going over there after I clock out."

"Carrie and I were thinking about going to see him later."

"He'd appreciate that, Mitch, I really think he would." Brass shook the officer's hand. "Thanks. For back there..."

"Don't worry. We both know where our loyalties lie."

They said goodbye and Brass made his way back to his office. He couldn't get Fromansky's thoughts out of his own mind. He had been guilty of taking for granted the work and services of CSIs. He knew there were misconceptions about the "geeks," but they faced dangers too.

Grissom was a testament to that fact.

* * *

A nurse examined the newly-awakened Grissom. He and Sara both kept quiet during the routine exam. But it was still a half hour before she left.

Once she was gone, Grissom spoke up. "I'm sorry. I never should have said what I did to you." Sara looked at him as a tear rolled down his face. "I still can't believe I would do that to you. I hope that you can forgive me, Sara."

She felt herself choke with tears. The conversation in his office plagued his mind too. "When we saw you in that chair..."

"It was on a live feed, wasn't it?"

Sara nodded and continued, "All I could think about was the last thing I said to you and how horrible it would be if those were the last words you would hear me say..."

Grissom nodded. "I thought the same thing. All I wanted to do was be able to tell you I was sorry and I love you."

Through her own guilt and grief, Sara never fathomed he might be thinking the same way as she did. "I am so sorry for what I said to you. I was hot-headed and never even realized what you were going through until Warrick told me about your case. Gil, I am so sorry."

He reached his hand up and caressed her cheek before brushing away her escaping tears. "Let's call it all forgiven."

Sara took his hand, holding it to her face for a moment before pressing a kiss to his palm. The relief that washed over her was overwhelming and she found it impossible to hold back her tears. Grissom pulled her down to him and held her close as the relief of his own guilt leaving him brought hot tears to his own eyes. They cried in each others' arms for a few minutes before they both calmed. When they were done she sat up and dried her tears and blew her nose. Then helped him do the same.

"Can I get you anything?" She asked as she smiled at him.

He looked at her quizzically and she noticed he was feeling his broken teeth with his tongue, taking count of all the damage. She gave his hand a loving squeeze, and began to detail his injuries. When she saw the look of fear that crossed his face she was quick to reassure him. "It's okay, babe, you're safe now."

"I must look like..." He moved to sit up and his face contorted in pain.

"One day at a time, Gil. We'll do this together," Sara said as she eased him back down on the bed. "I'm going to get the nurse and ask about your pain medication."

He nodded and watched as she left to go find a nurse. As he laid his head down and closed his eyes he saw those three men standing around him. He could hear their voices and feel their hands on him. Holding him down, hurting him. He jumped awake when Sara touched his hand and his eyes snapped open as he gasped for breath. She saw the terror in his eyes and tried to sooth him.

"It's okay, you just dozed off for a few minutes." She sat down on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through his hair. "You're safe."

Belief and disbelief warred within him at her words and he searched her eyes for the true answer. "They arrested all three of your attackers." She continued, knowing what he needed to hear. "They're in jail and can't hurt you anymore."

Grissom relaxed a little as he lay back in the bed. He knew that he was facing a long road to recovery, more so mentally as he knew that the dreams wouldn't stop anytime soon nor the feelings of paranoia, but as he looked into Sara's eyes and she smiled back at him he knew that she would be there to help him get through it.

"You'll stay me." It wasn't a question.

"I'll stay with you." It was an affirmation.

He joined his uninjured hand with hers, and they held each other's gaze until they hear a knock at the door.

"Hey, Jim," Grissom smiled when he saw his friend poke his head inside.

"Gil, you're awake," he smiled as he walked over to the bedside and sat down in the empty chair. "Welcome back."

"Thanks," Grissom smiled weakly.

"How bad's the pain? You need anything?"

"I'm sore."

Brass shook his head at what was obviously an understatement. "You look sore."

There was a long moment of awkward silence before Grissom broke it. "Who did this to me, Jim?"

Brass looked at Sara and they both knew that he had every right to know even though they hated to tell him. "It was Fromansky, Gil, and his partner Murphy and Murphy's brother, John." Brass saw his friend's eyes darken a little at the mention of two police officers committing the act. "This was a hate crime, Gil. They never meant for you to make it out of there alive."

"But why would they make the drop off point the same place that they were keeping him?" Sara asked. "It just doesn't make any sense."

Brass sighed. "The Murphy brothers were stoned out of their minds. John Murphy said that he actually thought that they could get away with it so that's where he made the drop off point. I know it makes no sense, but none of this does. John killed his girlfriend and her kids and got his brother to help him. Then Murphy turned to his partner who was more than willing to kidnap you and… well, the fuckin' bastard's in jail and he's not coming out."

Grissom thought Fromansky couldn't commit any act without hate. He remembered the words he had shared with Fromansky on a cold, dark night not so long ago. The threat in Fromansky's voice was so evident as he told Grissom to have a good night before walking away from the investigator's SUV.

And then he recalled what the kidnapper said to him right before he punched holes in his feet with a nail gun: "Too bad you didn't have a cop to protect you at that scene, huh, you arrogant clown." If Grissom hadn't been out of his mind in pain, maybe he could have connected it was Fromansky behind that mask.

But now Grissom realized that Fromansky hated him enough to torture him alongside a man who butchered a woman and her children... and that thought was incomprehensible. Grissom knew the three men who kidnapped and tortured him would now face justice and be in prison for a long time. And a small part of him felt sad that two officers, who had done their job successfully, walked down a dark road and ruined their lives.

But laying in that hospital bed, Grissom looked down at his mangled legs and mentally cursed Fromansky's name for his timing. Although Grissom's mind seemed fogged by his pain and the medication keeping it manageable, he could still focus on a singular thought: He wished those three cowards had tortured him a few days earlier. Then maybe those kids and their mother would still be alive.

And even though, buried somewhere within him, logic understood the truth, but Grissom couldn't reconcile the notion that somehow, because of Fromansky's vendetta against him, that Grissom was the cause of the brutal deaths of those innocent people. He didn't realize it then as he lay recovering in a hospital bed, but that would be a guilt he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

** The End**

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**Or Is It?**


End file.
